


Fragile Stars

by AMintyDyad



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drugging, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Gangs of First Order, Gun Violence, Hux is a Master Mind, Kidnapping, Past Abuse, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Kylo Ren, Strong Hux POV, Verbal Abuse, like somehow, no beta we die like men, rey is a brat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:20:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29463402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMintyDyad/pseuds/AMintyDyad
Summary: a kylo/rey story told in the POV of HuxArmitage Hux has always cleaned up after people's messes, namely Kylo Ren. What happens when a predictable chest piece begins to act of turn?Summary: In which Hux has grown tired of being at everyone's beck and call, he decides to take control of his life and pursue happiness. When the opportunity presents itself, in the form of a young girl named Rey, he kidnaps her and decides to use her as a means to wreak havoc in Ren's world. Except, things don't go entirely as planned, that's okay he'll.. improv, sorta.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> hissss. movie 9 does not exist here. hux is the REAL villain and he deserves to shine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited in a few things just to help with the tone!

Hux _knew_ , from the first time Snoke had laid his pale blue eyes on the boy that he finally found what he had been searching for.

It just hadn't made any sense at the time to the gingerly boy, he was fifteen and his world was not yet shaped by the vision of men who had a thirst for war.

They were the same age, _almost_ the same in build. Maybe Ben was a bit taller, but it was difficult to tell with the way he rolled his shoulders forward and bowed his head low. The boy was no different from _him_ and yet Snoke treated them as if they were worlds apart. All _he_ saw was just a scrawny scrap of a kid, with a dark mop of black hair and ears too big for his head. Oh and he had a pedigree to him that arrived in the most peculiar way - like the dining room.

Ben never slouched like the older boys, his cutlery never clanged or scraped at the plates like a dog might. Snoke observed it once and his wirey lips coiled upright in pleasure and then as a show of affection, he had Ben take _his_ seat on the right hand of Snoke who liked to put Ben Solo on display.

It was the first vow he would make, staring through with jealousy at a rolling rage - if Ben had looked at him, if looks could kill.

The boy wasnt perfect, he was prone to fits of broken rage and destroyed some of Snoke's most cherished items - a vase here, artwork that he used to look frequently on and threw tantrums that befitted a child.

So how was it Ben and not him?

It was insufferable - the way Snoke would endure it, look the other way and everyone was just supposed to pretend that Ren’s - _a name Snoke granted for him and him alone !-_ incessant screaming and cursing didn’t keep them up half the night. 

Yet not once did Snoke ever treat them the same and it didn’t just feel unfair, but downright humiliating. Hux only protested once, when he was seventeen and paid the price of a beating so severe _-_ a fractured in his skull, his jaw had to be wired shut and no one came to visit him on his recovery except that stupid dark haired boy who stared at him from the hallway. Then Snoke would drift over, drape a protective arm around and usher him away like removing someone precious from a diseased scene.

If Ren was the beautiful wound, Hux’s job was to be the grotesque scab that covered it up and kept everything together and united. If he was order, then Ren was chaos- 

_They’re both eighteen and as a coming of age ceremony they’re gifted with their first public kill. Two men, bound, gagged as well as hooded sit at the other end of a garden on their knees. Overlooking the garden on the balcony is Snoke, dressed in his golden embroidered robe and slack jaw face._

_It’s supposed to be Ren who takes the first shot, Hux knows it without it being said - all that training amassing to this and there’s high expectations. And yet he can hear in his ear the trembling of the gun in Ren’s right hand, tucked at his side._

_So he aims first, one hand cupping the bottom of the gun for stability and keeps both eyes open for precision and takes the shot. The loud bang rings in the air and then the slump of a body hitting the garden floor._

_“Do you want to know what face I imagined?” He turns to Ren standing just tucked on the side of the peripheral so that Snoke won’t see his lips move and read it from here. “I imagined your face - sniveling, crying, with snot running down your nose like the pathetic bastard you are.” He can see Ren’s body flush with anger, his chest heaving when a gear in Hux turns. “You’re nothing, Snoke made a mistake - if it's the pedigree he’s after, maybe I’ll visit your old sow of a mother after this and pump her up. Who knows? She’ll probably be good for one more.”_

_It’s so quick, a loud bang and the man at the end of the garden is dead - which yes was surprising he went through with it. It’s just the extra set of clicks he hears from Ren’s gun when his eyes widen, realizing what was intended for him. Thankfully they were only gifted one bullet each in their gun, but had it been more.._

_“You son of a-!” A fist flies, catching the rest of Hux’s words, biting his own tongue._

_The two of them kick up dust and gravel, fighting, while curses and fist are thrown. The majority of the fist come from Ren and the majority of the cursing comes from Hux, but enough blows are exchanged that they both are pried from each other with bleeding noses and cut lips. His chest aches and when he finally has time to gather his bearings, Snoke’s present with an applaud,_

_“Good, good, I knew you wouldn’t let me down.” His hands set atop Ben’s shoulders._

_There’s no gratitude, no admonishments, there isn’t anything but two who look at him with disdain while he wipes the blood from his mouth._

It probably started there, somewhere buried under the servitude of a downward gaze a displeasure crept along the surface of his skin. Even deeper was loathing that sank into the very marrow of his bones, where it festered for the next ten years. He did his best to ensure every slight of Ren’s was noted and he was vocal of how unrestrained he was in regards to the mission.

“He endangered the men and compromised our position,” the words would slice through the air, into empty ears, but he may as well have been talking about cattle that were meant to be sacrificed. All so that shiny pupil of his would continue to foster and grow.

And how much more did he need to grow? Kylo was now a head taller than all of his men with a mammoth body that he used to bulldoze his ways and shoulder check him when he least expected it. The fights had grown less physical because Hux simply couldn’t keep up, but it didn’t stop Ren and his gaggle of men he called Knights to not be petty. Even worse was when Ren was confident enough to take the charge he cleared rooms without exerting any real effort - he was good and _that_ was perhaps the most infuriating part, how easy everything came to him.

“Yes well, is that all?” Snoke stood with his back to the two of them as if everything Hux had to offer was boring. One indignation after the next, but he learned to suppress where _Kylo_ was allowed to express without restraint.

He turned his face, studying Ren’s bored blank expression and closed his eyes, it didn’t matter, none of it ever mattered, “yes.. Sir, that _is_ all.”

That’s how it became a routine, but Snoke was getting older now and Kylo was growing disinterested, _restless_ and was no longer a boy that could be led by his big ginormous ears. He could see it coming because he worked _so_ closely with the man, but he knew Snoke suspected it as well because he was beginning to ask new questions.

"How is he?" An old voice croaked from behind an oak desk. The place smelled sterile with a cloying scent of mint that was meant to overpower Snoke’s rotting age.

Hux's gaze was on the carpet, taking his knee in formality, head bowed like a studious clerk he was. He studied the same diamond pattern as he did every year. Nothing about this place changed, that too was a problem. It had grown stale, Snoke no longer had anything new to teach and he could sense his time coming to a close.

"Ren?" Not the hundreds of men and women who answered to him? He shifted his gaze up once to see a pair of clouded pale eyes settle on him that feel like the closing of a coffin. It was suffocating and stuffy and his shoulders tightened reflexively, "Sir. As ruthless and crass as you remember him." He spoke the words like a cleric reading a passage, clear and precise.

"Very well," and then the decrypt old man lifts his hand and flits it in a _go away_ motion. The doors behind him open by the two guards stationed inside just stare resolutely ahead like the drones they are. He takes to a stride to leave, not too quick even though he would love nothing more than to bolt. He's nearing the threshing of the door and by his pace, he counts four more steps before he's out when he hears it - like an afterthought.

" _Oh_ \- one more thing," he stills in his steps and stares forward, freedom taunting him, but he yields and turns around, submitting himself to whatever foolish errand he’s to be sent on next.

"Sir?" His voice is.. even, thankfully.

"Do be sure to tell me, if he meets anyone.. _new_." New? “Of interest,” he expounds, like he could read his mind - he.. hated the idea of that.

Just the idea of it makes the bile in his belly rise, hair standing on the back of his neck. Instead, his expression tightens, a curl in his lip that moves upward fringing on what a smile should look like. 

The words come like he's being forced to sign in blood, "of.. course, _Sir._ "

-

It's probably a few months later when they meet and at first he doesn't take notice of it because there’s nothing about her that really stands out. It’s not that she ugly, he hasn’t even looked at her long enough to take inventory of that, but it’s how she carries herself - like a vagrant with no regard to others.

“Have you seen Ren?” She takes a seat on the lounge chair across from him, crossing her legs like a man in her dirty looking unwashed jeans. Her hands go into the pockets of her thin looking jacket fishing for something. It looks like she snatched it off the rack of a clearance store that sold the gaudy shit no one of taste wanted.

“You’re not his type,” he doesn’t bother to look up from his magazine, slowly flipping through it. 

She seems to take this as an answer, but he doesn’t get through the pages before he hears her say, “what’s his type?” He stops completely turning the page and looks up from his magazine to her. She’s lighting a cigarette, right in the lobby of the hotel and yeah, sure the First Order owns this place, but it’s the audacity that has him staring.

“You can’t smoke here,” he fans the magazine and fakes a cough, but it does little to dissuade her, “wait, are you even old enough to smoke?” Because if he tilts his head a little, yeah - she looks a _little_ young and - 

“What are you going to do about it?” She exhales the smoke like a dragon, her lips twisting in the corner with a smug insidious grin. “Call the cops?” Her voice is speckled with laughter and she brings her hand back down to her mouth, eyes staying on him as she takes another puff. When she exhales, the smoke is deliberately towards him - the lack of fear and the complete disregard, it should have been a sign looking back. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” she bites her words, eyes narrowing, “what’s _his_ type?”

“Come here you little,” he sets the magazine down, hand flying across to snatch her wrist intent of removing the little hussy even if he has to be physical about it. Her eyes widen and she sets her dirty sneakers on his armani suit dragging a streak down it and shouting, “lemme go!” 

One minute he’s reeling his hand back to knock the lights out of her and the next he’s on his back, the coffee table in shambles underneath him and his gaze is staring up at the light fixture in the hotel lobby. His lips open, parting with a groan as he sits up on his hip and the blood rushing between his ears finally settles when he hears Ren and sees him crouching over the girl.

  
  


“Are you alright?” He’s holding her hand in his left paw as if it's fragile, his right thumb sliding from the center of her palm to her wrist when she winces. 

“Yeah.. ah. It’s okay.” She stiffles back a look like she’s going to cry and her voice has a little panic tremble to it. “I have to work tonight, Plutt said if I miss another shift he’s gonna fire me.” He has to give it to her, she sounds pretty believable. 

“Don’t worry about that, don’t worry about any of it,” Ren consoles her, soothes her, dragging his hands up and down her arms like a cherished commodity but what he whispers is only for her and he isn’t interested in hearing their tryst. 

“What the hell, Ren?” He’s finally getting to his feet, his perfect suit ruined and body sore, when he catches a look in Ren’s eyes and oh, he finally gets it. His eyes drag to the girl, who sort of tucks herself behind Ren, but behind his back she cracks the tiniest of smiles. 

His gaze goes back to Ren and he can see that petulant child hiding in the face of a man - the one that’s worried he’ll run back to Snoke and fib on him, but the idea strikes him differently and as he smoothes out his tie, he decides on something dangerous. 

“Whatever, just don’t ask me to clean up after you.”


	2. Since Day 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay, been somewhat of a struggle to post as of late since I've been lacking confidence

They're supposed to represent  _ order _ and structure in a world that invites division and chaos. It wasn't just some script of idealistic beliefs on the back of a pamphlet - it was a vision, one that  _ everyone _ under the First Order saw when their symbolic flag flew. A banner, a pure representation of unity and cleanliness - black and white. Balance. 

They were to do away with the silly notion that things were the way they were because of some cosmic presence at play. If they wanted unity, they  _ took _ it by force because  _ nothing _ was out of the reaches of the First Order.

None of that fate vitriol was allowed, but Ren had his own creed, one that Hux warned was dangerous. The man made slight exceptions and gathered six men that were  _ like _ him in these beliefs, a creed, a band of brothers so to speak. They were nothing more than bloodhounds that barked in whatever direction Ren pointed at. They exuded the same blood thirsty vibe and it was sickening to think they were moonlighting as first order soldiers when  _ really _ they simply enjoyed killing like the  _ monsters  _ they were.

Sometimes he saw that monster hugging at the edges of Ren's gaze. It wasn't in the thrill of a kill, but when moments were quiet and somber. When things were silent and they sat at Snoke’s banquet table like they had as children that he’d see that creature make itself visible. Ren would look wearing a blanket expression, but his eyes trembled with a cruelty he had not seen in others. Then as if the demon knew it was being looked at, his expression would turn on Hux where he stared at his neck before dragging up to his face like he was trying to recognize him. The fork in Ren’s left hand was twirling slowly, absent from thought and then stopped when he returned to his surroundings. Snoke was drubbing on about a report, neither heard a word that was spoken.

They both pretended not to notice it, the madness that was drifting throughout the course of a meal and Hux refused to acknowledge anything only allowing his lip to curl in disgust. 

That was Snoke's burden to deal with, not his, though the man was brilliant in the past he was not immune to the ravages of time. And oh - he had aged like a withered branch cut from the vine. Eyes too feeble to see that he began to rely on Hux to know all about Ren's daily rituals and reports. 

Ren wasn't blind to it, but maybe he was too caught up in his own rituals to care, either way the clean up often befell Hux. Unfortunately  _ Ren _ was groomed to be a successor, to bring the rebellion to a sweeping end. Hux's job was to make sure that Ren doesn't destroy the throne in the process. 

Maybe it's just too much to ask to be a  _ little _ discreet until that time comes.

When Ren enters the room, every head tilts up in a slight surprise. It isn't just his height, it's the way he carries himself in such a showy way by stalking forward with every step. Hux is squatting, with binoculars and in the building across the suite as he watches, muttering “Dammit Ren, you’re early.” His entourage of knights follow suit and they move like a pack of wolves from one den to the next clearing rooms and making short work of private security. 

Then the gunfire begins, the screams follow and Hux's peaceful night goes up in smoke.

The reprimand falls on deaf ears, but he plays the lip service if only for the sake of venting. "You're  _ supposed _ to go on my call Ren, I had men in place to-," he steps over a fallen body, a senator he.. _ thinks _ . Ren's  _ knights _ are nothing more than vicious beasts and a twelve gauge to the face makes it hard to recognize people anymore. It's going to be a messy cleanup and long shitty night - a piece of carnage falls on his shoulder and it makes him jolt. He thinks it's a cheek, maybe. 

If he  _ feels _ queasy, he won't show it because he can't afford to. "-We needed this one," Hux points down, it's a total guess at this point too, "-alive. You know, to interrogate? That  _ was _ the mission." To approach a senator in a risky situation and help them better understand the First Order's vision.

At this rate there would be no supporters if Ren and his men didn't just gung-ho the area.

" _ -Shh _ ." It isn't because it's the first time Ren has ever shushed him, but it's the way the other men have stopped breathing like an act of compliance. They're all perfectly still, statuesque and it's  _ unsettling _ , makes his skin crawl, but as Ren turns he can see the glimmer in those dark, dilated eyes searching for something. He's on the hunt, but Hux knows that there's no point to argue. It's not like Ren would even hear him, like yelling into a dark void, the voice that answers him back probably won’t even be Ren.

Then, the closet door is thrust open - a woman frantically makes leaps like a doe for freedom to rush to the door in the haze of fallen bodies. 

Well, admittedly he's a little stunned at her speed and agility. She slides over a downed bullet ridden couch and out of the hunkering grasp of one of Ren's knights before the door is shut by another. She stops just shy of their reach, but none of the men have made any plays to grab at her and he likely knows why. Instead they crowd a little closer like a maze being formed and she’s pushed toward the mouth of a beast who wants to devour her whole. 

Her pretty little back bumps into Ren's chest and she goes perfectly still - understanding in that moment that her fate was sealed.

Well shit, now he wishes the door wasn't closed because he'd take his leave at this point too. Next to killing, Ren's appetite for women is fickle, but it never fares well for the ones he does take interest in. 

The girl balls her hands into fists, arms at her side and her head a little low - remorsefully she asks, " _ please _ , just let me go."

"Mm. No." Ren takes his knuckle and drags it along her arm, enjoying every little quiver she gives him. "Turn around," he orders, but grabs her by the back of her biceps and tucks a warning into her hair, "slowly, ok? No sudden movements."

Hux wants to warn her  _ not  _ to cry or scream, but he doesn't want to take a bullet and highly doubts Ren's  _ knights _ would give him first aid. No, they'd empty the rest of their mag before doing that.

She turns to face her demons and for what it's worth her attempts at bravery are noted. Her lips are clamped shut - probably just to keep from screaming, but it's a wonder she hasn't fainted. Her breathing is ragged, but drawn tight as she exhales through her nose and glares up at the much larger looming figure. 

That's Ren's thing - once he surpassed his peers in height, himself included - he started to use it against others. A way to size people up and test their patience all while under the scrutinized gaze of a big lumbering bastard. 

In all fairness - he  _ hated _ it when Ren did it to him, he had a way of sneaking up and just stood there until he noticed him. Bastard.

With the girl in the picture, it's different.

They look picturesque in spite of their surrounding carnage, a plethora of dead politicians and hookers befallen them. All that was missing was the minister to ceremoniously join them together. 

When she doesn't shrink under his gaze, it slides off of her and onto the skimpy white dress. A tiny strapless one piece and revealing shapely pair of legs. If she had gotten through that door, he thinks she would have given them all a fair shake. Those long sinewy legs and sculpted thighs and ass are all the things Ren's trained on, but he settles for her face and now a creeping blush is crossing along her cheeks.

She makes the mistake of asking, "what do you want?"

"You," he confesses in tandem with her. 

"I'm not-" she pauses.

"A whore?" Another line Ren finishes for her and studies her face a little longer before settling the matter for the both of them. "Hm, no, you're not."

"I'm a dancer." 

That's probably not a good idea to mention either, but again he doesn't want extra holes. Instead he moves away from their convo, faintly hearing Ren ask  _ "well would you dance for me?" _ It's a good thing his back is turned because he's rolling his eyes, when the glimmer of something catches his attention.

A squadron of several cars with more arriving have made an appearance - a silent call must have gone out. 

"Shit, we have a problem," he looks back over his shoulder. Ren's sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread with the girl standing extremely close in between them. He half a palm on her thigh the other holding her wrist to forcefully keep her there. "Ren - we have a  _ problem _ ," he emphasized once more, lowering his voice.

"Yeah," he's despondent when he answers, mouth parted and eyes never leaving the girl he's suddenly so fond of. "Too many clothes?" 

"More like too many cops," and he finally hears it, a suck of his teeth as Ren clicks his tongue. 

"Now who could they be here for?" It's another rare, but lukewarm joke, a jest meant to emphasize how wanted and notorious  _ Kylo _ Ren has become. Except there's a  _ new _ piece on the board, one that everyone seems to come to the conclusion as if a single brain cell controls the pack. 

All eyes are on the girl in white - alive, her hands still balled into fist. She makes the next play obvious for them when she opens it and reveals what looks to be a large button. It was a signal, one that Kylo takes from her and crushes it with his own hand in a fit.

"You're under arrest, for the crimes and murder against the Republic," gone is the fear from her expression, only a smug calmness. 

Ren's standing, holding her by the wrist when he pulls her further in and crowds her space. "You lied to me-"

"I didn't. I'll still dance for you," her lips quirk and it's Ren's turn to look bewilder for a moment, eyes searching her face. "On your  _ grave _ after you  _ fry _ for all your fucking crimes." 

The shudder that rips through Ren could be confused for fear, but no.. Hux understands that it's entirely something else, being wound up and edged on by madness. He snaps and presses the palm of his hand to her throat, one that her hands digs to try and pry off. 

He's in her ear with words to keep her quiet, "go ahead and call your little buddies in." 

It's in that moment that Ren's men finally come alive with a roll of their shoulders, they begin reloading their weapons and revealing more firepower than even Hux knew about. She gives up fighting and his hand relaxes on her throat. 

"You won't get away with this," it doesn't have the same sting as before. "Just turn yourself in," for that she earns herself a few chuckles from Ren and his men. 

It's not going to be a shootout so much as a bloodbath. He assigns one of his men to rig the room, two others to move ahead and secure another room. The push across into a new suite is met with a higher tension and a new budding headache for Hux.

The resistance are going to run a smear campaign about this moment and now Ren's taken it upon himself to acquire a hostage. 

The new suite is swept clear, Ren's men cut open a window before bringing it inside and setting it on the bed. There's enough repels for each of them as these rooms have been outfitted with a contingency for escape. A little guarantee that was made possible by Hux, but where's the gratitude now?

Ren's busy strapping in, as are the rest of the men when it dawns on the girl that she has no way down. 

"I can't-," her face pales, the words choking in her throat. 

"Just hold onto me, real tight, kitten." It seems there at the pet name stage already. She whimpers in reply, takes a half step back when Vicrul shoves her forward. 

"I'll go on ahead," he mutters - not as if anyone  _ cares _ , but to his credit two of Ren's men go with. Hux keeps his form taut, rope to body, with a hand brake for speed control, but that's the extent of the effort needed. 

They had done plenty of drill lines in the past, this is no different except now the equipment is better. When his feet touch the ground, it's only then does he look up to see Ren and his men are about halfway down. So he cuts himself free of the line and steps back to give the other four room. 

When Ren lands, it's a little more gingerly because of the added weight of the girl. The girl whose legs are wrapped snugly around his upper torso, face buried into the crook of his neck and her arms squeezing. It's not like Ren doesn't conceal that he isn't enjoying every moment of this, feeling a little vindicated from earlier.

"We landed safely, sweetheart." His palm caresses the openness of her left thigh, a gesture that she would have jumped to get away from. Instead she unwinds from him slowly, legs dragging down until her bare feet are touching the ground. 

"I have a car ready for us at the east lot, but we shouldn't all travel in one pack like this," he speaks to Ren, cutting himself free. It's a given that his knights have their own way home, they always seem to. 

"Tell everyone else to pull out, we have what we need." At this, Hux hums and tilts his head to view the girl. She's got an opaque color missing the little pink undertones and a near vacant expression. Her dress is also starting to spot with a little drippage from the nosebleed. She takes the back of her hand and rubs it, but it just smears across her nose and cheek - a bright and vibrant red.

"You mean the girl? I don't think she'll be useful, Ren," if he enjoys digging this next part, oh well, he supposes his kink is being right at Ren's discredit. "She's a  _ nobody _ , why you roped the poor thing into this is beyond me."

Ren turns, head snapping to her direction and rushing to reach her. He barely gets his hands tucked under her arms when her legs fold under her. She's completely deadweight, but Ren holds her upright like it's nothing and props her head against his shoulder. In the same effort he's standing back up and holds her where she lays limp in his arms. 

He looks so helpless that it's pathetic, but it's the perfect time to prick the beast. "Congrats Ren, you  _ broke _ her," the look of Ren's face is wounded as if he wasn't the same monster who pushed and pulled with delight earlier.

Except he's not done crushing the beast, these chances are rare. The final nail to pierce the flesh is the deliberate one, one he's curated for moments like these. "Although I suppose - that's  _ all _ you know how to do is break things." And like that he gets to watch Ren's anger crumble into a cold, shaken emptiness. 

The walk to the car is just a lull of silence, a parked black suv sits alone. The explosion in the suite is loud enough to reach them with a dull boom, but not enough to jolt the girl awake. 

  
  



End file.
